


an untimely slumber

by rowing_away



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 03:44:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2636762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowing_away/pseuds/rowing_away
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine Person A of your OTP falling asleep on top of Person B while at a party. Others tease Person B about it causing them to get flustered, but they can’t move to do anything about it in fear of waking Person A up. (http://imagineyourotp.tumblr.com/post/48204448746/imagine-person-a-of-your-otp-falling-asleep-on-top#notes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	an untimely slumber

**Author's Note:**

> Original post: http://rowing-away.tumblr.com/post/48715981385/another-cute-richlee-drabble-based-on-this-prompt

Richard was in the middle of attempting to talk James out of his seventh, or maybe that was his ninth, who even knew anymore, tequila and lime shot. James just flapped a hand at him, grinning widely, saying that he had to live more on the adventurous side. Richard translated that to mean the Irishman was simply going to pay for his current rambunctiousness and fun in the morning, consequences be damned.

He rolled his eyes at the other man, went back to watching the younger men tipping back numerous shitty drinks, and Graham sitting with Mark and Stephen on the other couch, obviously engrossed in conversation of which Richard did not know the subject, but by the look of it, they were probably debating again.

That was when Richard felt a warm body press against his side, a head fall onto his shoulder. He didn’t need to look to know that Lee had nodded off, and was now somehow sleeping soundly amongst all the loud noise, and the glow of the tv that was generally ignored in favor of hard liquor.

It must have been the mixture of alcohol and the late hour that did him in, or perhaps it was the enthusiastic karaoke contest that lasted about two hours accompanied by hearty catcalls and loud hooting. Either way, the end part of this situation seemed inevitable, really.

Richard sighed softly, rubbing his nose against Lee’s silky brown hair fondly. It smelled of his favorite shampoo, cinnamon vanilla, and sunshine, if that made any sense. Lee was like sunshine, anyway, with the adorable way he smiled, and his cute laughter, and his ability to light up an entire room with his mere presence.

He considered himself very lucky that this wonderful man loved and cherished him as much as he did Lee.

He shook his head with a small smile, strained to reach the coffee table so he could place down his beer bottle without jostling Lee.

James made a thoughtful noise across from him, which made Richard look up curiously at him. “That’s very cute, Richard,” James said cheerfully, and then the camera on his phone captured the picture.

Richard flushed, and then Adam perked up at the mere mention of the word cute, as he always does, and he noticed Lee all cuddled up to Richard, sleeping peacefully despite his chaotic surroundings, and Adam smiled at the sight.

Then he turned to James and demanded that a copy of the picture be sent to his phone, hell, all of their phones, and Richard sputtered.

“Oh no, it’s okay, Richard,” Aidan slurred drunkenly, “S’not like we’re going to post it on twitter.” He stared pointedly at Dean, who was hunched over his bright phone screen and tapping away furiously. Aidan rammed an elbow into his side, and Dean yelped, protesting, but agreed to keep it between the people in this room only, rubbing the now sore spot and claiming that Aidan’s elbows were weapons of mass destruction.

Richard, still a bit red in the face, muttered words of relief, and looped an arm around Lee’s shoulders, pulling him in closer. After all, Richard wouldn’t like to wake up with a crick in his neck, either.


End file.
